


no happy ever afters

by allthefadinglights



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Formula 2 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthefadinglights/pseuds/allthefadinglights
Summary: He wants to hate Mick, he does. But it's impossible when Mick is right there saying disgusting things like 'I'm happy it was you I was racing against' and 'If you'd have won, I would've been happy for you'.
Relationships: Callum Ilott/Mick Schumacher, Marcus Armstrong/Callum Ilott
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't really sure where I wanted this to go because I adore CallumxMarcus but CallumxMick worked better for this. So, while this does involve some CallumxMarcus, it's endgame CallumxMick.

This isn't a love story.

Callum is well aware of that, knows he doesn't get to have nice things. His whole life has been a series of what ifs and not enoughs strung together, like a poorly made paper garland by a kindergartener. Fourth, third, second, it's never good enough. Only winning matters, and Callum is yet to win a championship, yet to call himself anything other than runner up and vice champion. He wants to hate Mick, he does. But it's impossible when Mick is right there saying disgusting things like 'I'm happy it was you I was racing against' and 'If you'd have won, I would've been happy for you'. Callum has tried lying to himself, tried telling himself he's not happy for Mick. But it's just that - a lie. Like he's been lying to himself for years about his true feelings for Mick. 

Everyone from journalists to team members to his family has been telling him variations of 'if only you'd have-'. They're nothing compared to every single scenario Callum's run through his mind a thousand times already. What if he hadn't stalled. What if he hadn't been spun around. What if he'd stopped to help. It doesn't make a difference. He's still a runner up, he's still a grieving friend, he's still jealous. Because that's what it is, and he recognises it as such. Green, ugly, twisting jealousy whispering things in his ear, making his heart constrict, making him want to say awful things. He's not sure how no one else has caught on yet, not sure how no one has been able to read every horrible, mean thought he's had on his face. His mom has told him many times he's an open book, wears his heart on his sleeve, has never been able to tell a straight lie. So why no one has called him out on his crap yet is a mystery to him. Except it's not, not really. No one has called him out yet because no one cares enough to look closely.

Not Marcus. Not even Mick. 

Vice champion means nothing, not to the people who hold his career in their hands. Callum had to beat Mick to stand a chance at being considered, and he hasn't. So they offer him a consolation prize, another second-best. Test driver for Ferrari, it should be an honor and he should be happy about it. But watching Mick walking around in his Haas clothes, watching the SCH on the timings, Callum is anything but happy with his new role. He doesn't want to end up like previous test drivers before him, never getting a chance, always getting leapfrogged by younger guys, more talented guys, richer guys. And yet he feels like that will be his fate. But really, what else did he expect?

Only a few of them will ever make it, and Callum is pretty sure he won't be one of them. Every team just makes promises upon promises and never makes good on any of it. Not Ferrari, not Red Bull, and definitely not Renault. 

"You're moping," Marcus tells him, kicking him in the shins. They're at the Dams awning in the F2 paddock. Callum isn't needed at Ferrari or for any media duties for the time being so he decided to take a break from pretending not to look at the SCH on the F1 timings and annoy his former roommate. 

"I'm not," Callum replies, attempting to kick him back but missing as Marcus dodges out of reach just in time. 

"Yeah, you are. You have that sad look on your face you usually only get when-" Marcus stops there, but he doesn't have to finish his sentence because Callum knows the end of it. _When you think about that day in August._

"I'm fine," he replies automatically, ignoring the look Marcus gives him. "It's not that."

He asked Marcus once, when they were both completely shitfaced after some party in Maranello. He's not even sure if Marcus remembers that conversation or if they're both just pretending not to for the other's sake, but Callum remembers it vividly. "Am I really that unlovable?" is what he asked Marcus.

Marcus had chuckled, until he realised Callum was serious. "Of course not." Callum had dramatically flung himself on the sofa to complain some more, though he hadn't expected Marcus to settle next to him. 

"Sure feels like it," Callum had mumbled. He's still not sure how he ended up with Marcus in his lap and his tongue in his mouth, but they'd both been into it, moaning and Marcus grinding down on him. Perhaps a bit too much. It was all very hot and heavy, but it had gotten Marcus' point across in a rather unconventional way. Would Callum have done any of this had he been sober? Probably not. They'd discussed it in the morning, Callum bringing it up when he found that Marcus was unable to look him in the eye at breakfast. They'd agreed it was just a one time thing and things had returned to normal. It had been good, but stupidly, Callum's heart belonged to someone else. 

"Then what?" Marcus asks him, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing, just lost opportunities."

"It can't just be that, you don't get that look on your face unless it's very serious. Matters of the heart."

" _Matters of the heart_ ," Callum mocks him and Marcus kicks him again. "Seriously, it's nothing. Nothing you can help fix, anyway. Not that there is anything to fix." 

Marcus studies him for a minute before shrugging. "If you say so. For what it's worth, I don't think it's one-sided." And Callum is left gaping after him as Marcus takes off to get his helmet before qualifying.

How could it not be one-sided? It's Mick, and Mick has a lot better options than a runner up, a vice champion, a _never good enough_. No, Callum is pretty sure his useless crush isn't mutual because Mick has the subtlety of a baby elephant and Callum would've noticed. Hell, everyone would've noticed. He sits there moping for a bit longer before he's called back to the Ferrari garage to watch FP2. He pretends not to follow the little grey dot tagged SCH around the tracker of the circuit and half-heartedly listens to the Ferrari team radios. 

He's surprised when he hears someone calling out his name as he's leaving the paddock that evening. "Wait up!" Much to his surprise, it's Mick jogging up to him and Callum is torn between confusion and delight. They're friends, sure, but Mick's quite busy these days and Callum doesn't want to bother him.

"Hey," Callum replies, hoping his face isn't giving away how he's feeling right now. "What's up?"

"It's been a while, do you wanna catch up over drinks?" Mick asks. 

Callum doesn't let himself question Mick's motivations, just nods in answer. "We can go back to my room, if you want."

It's familiar, catching up with Mick. They've always been friends and agreed on many things, and Callum gets to ask him about his new job, the new team, everything. And Mick's happy to tell him. It surprises Callum that it's easy to listen to. The jealousy isn't rearing its ugly head, his heart isn't constricting whispering ' _that should've been mine_ '. It's just that, easy. It's nearing eleven when there is a lull in the conversation. "I should probably get going," Mick says regretfully, looking at his watch. "Got a car to drive in the morning."

"Yeah," Callum agrees quietly, getting up to open the door for Mick and tell him goodnight. That's not quite how things go, however. Mick looks at him with a look in his eyes Callum can't quite place. It's not one he's seen before. They stand by the door for a beat too long, and Callum subconsciously steps closer to Mick, not quite ready to say goodnight yet. He's not sure what possesses him but he reaches up to Mick's hair, running his hand through it. "I'm glad you don't wear those caps anymore," he hears himself say. It's like watching from the outside, he knows he shouldn't be doing any of this and yet, he can't stop himself. 

Mick watches him, curious, but doesn't stop him. Callum steps even closer to him. "Can I?" He's not sure if Mick knows what he's asking, but he leans in anyway, pausing just before his lips touch Mick's - just to give him an out, should he want one. But Mick closes the gap between them, threads one hand through Callum's hair and pulls him closer with the other hand grasping at the front of Callum's shirt. It's surreal, Callum can't really believe this is happening, but it's so good. They start out soft and sweet, but Callum wants more, decides to see how far he can push Mick. He walks him backwards towards the wall, presses himself up against Mick, moans into the kiss as Mick deepens it. 

They break apart panting, neither of them saying a word and neither of them letting go of the other. "Is this a bad time to tell you that I'm kind of into you?" Callum asks and Mick laughs, pulls Callum into a hug and buries his face in Callum's neck. 

"No, it's actually the best time," Mick says, muffled. "Obviously, it's mutual. I can't believe you hadn't noticed, everyone's been telling me I look like a lovesick puppy." 

"Guess that makes two of us," Callum replies. It feels unreal, standing here with Mick in his arms, knowing that finally, _finally_ , he's someone's first choice. 

This isn't a love story. Not yet. But it will be, Callum will absolutely make sure of that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually do this, writing second chapters or writing smut but here we are, I guess! There's really not that much plot to this so. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It's a delicate thing, their new relationship. Callum's not really used to it yet, not used to the fact he can just text Mick at any point during the day and call him at night, and get to call him _his_. It's new, it's strange, but it's also everything he's ever wanted. Most people would think dating your biggest rival was weird, considering Mick's the one he lost the title to. But it's only really driven them together, considering Mick went spouting disgustingly soppy comments to the media and Callum couldn't help but repeat them in his own interviews. They don't get much time together - Mick is busy, has his commitments to Haas and Formula 1, while Callum has his own to Ferrari. He spends a lot of time in Italy in the sim, sometimes going in when the sun isn't up yet and only going home when the sun's already gone down. But they make it work.

Marcus knows. He could tell the second he saw Callum, citing that he'd finally dropped his moping and gone after what he wanted. Callum suspects Marcus knew that his crush was mutual, but he has no proof for it. He also has no idea how Marcus could possibly know, considering he's usually incredibly dense and a blabbermouth. Mick wouldn't have told him, because they both know this about Marcus. 

Callum had told Mick about the drunk escapade he had with Marcus, and much to his surprise, Mick just laughed and said it wasn't very surprising. Callum was yet to ask him what he meant by that. 

Tonight, they both have a night off from duties and commitments and media, so Mick's invited Callum over to his hotelroom under the guise of 'catching up with a friend'. It's not a complete lie, but they'll be catching up on their recent lack of physical touch instead - Callum's pretty sure of it, if Mick's text was anything to go by. He's been trying not to think about it all day because he's in public and it's inappropriate, but the not-thinking-about-it means he's definitely thinking about it. At several points during the day, he has to take a breather and splash some cold water on his face in the bathroom because he does not feel like explaining why he's half hard during a boring meeting. 

Callum also wants to talk to Mick properly and not over the phone, but that plan goes out the window the second Mick opens his hotelroom door that evening. He barely gives Mick the time to close the door before he's on him, threading one hand in Mick's hair and kissing him without even saying hi. Mick isn't complaining, however, giving as good as he's getting and pushing Callum up against the door. Callum deepens the kiss and pushes a thigh in between Mick's to grind against him. They're both already hard, and Callum should probably be embarrassed how little he needs to get this worked up, but he's been thinking about this all day and his hand hasn't been satisfying as of late, knowing how good it gets with Mick. They're both panting hard as Mick breaks the kiss and Callum chases him, wants more, but Mick huffs out a laugh. "The door isn't really the best place to fuck against," he says, stepping back and kicking off his shoes.

Callum would laugh if his brain hadn't just provided him with the mental image of that and _fuck_ , he might be into that. Instead of considering that any further - that's a crisis for later - he toes off his own shoes and kisses Mick again, before the latter even gets the chance to remove another item of clothing. Mick lets himself drop onto the bed, Callum following him and pinning him to the bed. "I thought we were going to catch up," Mick breathes.

"We'll have time for that later," Callum replies, fingers trailing down to the waistband of Mick's jeans and sliding under his shirt. "Besides, I'd call this catching up too," he adds as an afterthought while pushing up Mick's shirt, urging him to take it off. His own shirt follows suit before Mick pulls at his shoulders, getting him to settle between his legs and gasping as Callum grinds down against his thigh, definitely hard now. Callum's jeans are starting to feel restricting but he refuses to stop kissing Mick for a second to undress, so he doesn't, just keeps grinding against him as Mick arches his hips up. He knows it could be better if they get all their clothes off, but the friction he's getting right now is just enough, for now. His lips finally leave Mick's to kiss a path down his neck, pausing at his collarbones before pressing his lips to Mick's left nipple. It's all still so new to him, yet so familiar.

Callum can feel Mick's chest heaving up and down as he moves to the other nipple, before kissing down to the waistband of his jeans. He looks up at Mick to find him watching him, blue eyes blown wide and already looking like a mess. Heat flashes through Callum when he realises _he_ made Mick look like that. "Can I blow you?" he blurts out, only realising how badly he wants to when the words leave his mouth. Mick makes a desperate noise that goes straight to Callum's dick and nods, threading his hand in Callum's hair and the other in the sheets. Callum wastes no time undoing the button on Mick's jeans and pulling them down his legs. Slowly, he leans down to mouth at Mick's dick through his boxers, relishing in the noises Mick makes above him, the way his hips are twitching like he's having trouble restraining himself from jerking up. 

"Stop teasing," Mick breathes, tugging slightly at Callum's hair as Callum grins at him. 

"Fine," Callum says, pulling Mick's boxers down and off, and tossing them away, placing one arm over Mick's hips to hold him down and taking Mick's dick in his hand. There's a slightly stronger tug on his hair this time and he chuckles. "Alright, easy." Slowly, he wraps his lips around the head and is instantly rewarded with more beautiful noises from Mick that go straight to his dick. He hasn't exactly done this very often so it's very much just trial and error, but there's honestly not much refinement to a blowjob. Callum suckles on the head as he works the base with his hand, carefully swallowing him down further until the head hits the back of his throat. Mick's shamelessly moaning now, hips trying to jerk up so Callum has to restrain him. He can tell by the frequency and volume of Mick's moans that he's getting close.

"Gonna come," Mick pants, tugging at Callum's hair to pull him off. Callum goes willingly, hand on Mick's dick to finish him off. It doesn't take long for his dick to twitch in Callum's hand and Mick comes with a loud moan of Callum's name, spilling over his own stomach and Callum's hand. He looks like a mess, though Callum's pretty sure he's no better by the way Mick has been pulling on his hair, and he's still painfully hard in his jeans. Mick's eyes are hazy, breathing slowing as he comes down and Callum kisses him softly. "Jesus Christ," Mick says once he's regained his speech. Callum's hand has trailed down to the waistband of his own jeans, trying to pop the button with one hand while the other's softly stroking Mick's hair. "Let me," Mick says, gently pushing Callum's hand away and undoing his jeans, pushing them down with his boxers just far enough to free his dick. Callum's pretty much done for the second Mick gets a hand on him, painfully turned on from blowing Mick and it doesn't take Mick long to reduce him to a panting, moaning mess. 

Mick kisses him, licking at his lips as Callum moans into the kiss, breaking it to gasp and bury his face in Mick's shoulder as he comes, spilling over Mick's hand and both their stomachs. He's so boneless for a good few minutes after, it takes serious effort to sling one arm over Mick's chest and ride it out. Mick waits patiently, hand running along his side in a comforting way. "I thought we were going to catch up," is the first thing Callum manages to say, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to Mick's shoulder. 

"Hey, I'm not the one storming in here and immediately pushing me up against the door for sex," Mick replies and Callum huffs out a laugh. "So, how was your day?" Callum slaps him on the chest half-heartedly. 

"Shut up. We should shower before this dries." 

"We should," Mick agrees, but neither of them show any intention of getting up, Mick instead choosing to kiss Callum again. Callum loses himself in it, no urge behind it this time, just enjoying the comforting presence of Mick and his hands on his body. Eventually, Mick breaks the kiss and moves to get up, Callum following suit. He finds that he doesn't want to let go of Mick just yet, so he attaches himself to Mick even in the shower, as they finally manage to talk about their days and actually catch up. 

Perhaps it is a love story after all.


End file.
